


O Smaug, the Unassessably Wealthy Hoarder of Chicken Nuggets

by mandysimo13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, LOTR References, M/M, Male Bonding, McDonald's, Pack, budding attraction, chicken nuggets, drunk, happy drunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott, Stiles and Isaac get drunk and convince Derek to take them to get chicken nuggets. Stiles decides he's a nugget hoarding dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Smaug, the Unassessably Wealthy Hoarder of Chicken Nuggets

 

 

What started as a couple beers with dinner between friends, a decision that Derek would come to regret as the night wore on, soon turned into a three men cackle-fest with one, as Stiles put it, Sourwolf.

“Come on, Derek! Drink with us!” Stiles had gestured with his glass that was filled to the brim with wolfsbane infused vodka and cranberry juice, “Turn that frown upside down!”

Derek had rolled his eyes and made a move to snatch his bottle back from Isaac when Stiles threw his body between them. “Stop being such a spoiled sport!” “Someone has to babysit you idiots. Underaged idiots, I might add.” He punctuated the statement with a glare, hoping it would be sufficiently frightening. It wasn’t.

Scott just laughed and plucked the bottle out of Isaac’s hands and poured another two fingers into his glass. “Come on, man. We’ve had a rough time of it! It’s male bonding time!”

“If your father,” he pointed his gaze at Stiles, “Were to find out about my momentary lapse in judgement-”

“What lapse in judgement,” Isaac asked in a mock-innocent tone, “I think this was a great idea. Just wish Boyd was around to share in the fun.”

“Derek,” Stiles crossed the room and slung an arm over his shoulder and drew him close. _Must not push him away. Must not push Stiles. Stiles is small and fragile and bruises like a freaking peach,_ his internal dialogue reminded him. “My dad isn’t going to find out because we will all be sober when we return to our homes. Hell,” he pointed at Isaac, “Isaac doesn’t even have far to go. He’s staying with you, big guy!”

“Big guy,” Derek scowled at the term.

“Scotty! Help me out here! Tell him we’re fine!”

Scott had just finished pouring a handful of mixers and took a big gulp before adding his commentary. “It’s cool if you don’t want to join in the drinking, man. Really, it is.” He pointed a finger at to silently tell Stiles, who had opened his mouth obviously wanting to object to Scott’s statement, to shut it. “But let us enjoy the evening. I mean,” he looked sheepishly into his glass and then turned on the puppy eyes in Derek’s direction. “There aren’t a lot of opportunities for us to enjoy each other and relax. With everything that’s happen-”

“All right!” Derek through his hands in the air. _Really, the puppy eyes?_ “I won’t hold you all back. But that is the only bottle I’m opening. And none of you are leaving till tomorrow.”

“That’s totally fair,” Stiles replied. Then his eyes went wide and groaned loudly.

“What now,” Derek snapped.

“Nuggets.”

Derek was thrown off by Isaac and Scott replying in tandem, “Ooh, nuggets.”

Momentarily confused, Derek looked from one teenager to the other and finally settled on Stiles. Then it dawned on him.

“Derek-”

"No.”

“But Derek!”

“Nope!”

“Come on, man!” Stiles dropped to his knees in front of Derek. _He’s a teenager,_ he screamed at himself. _And a drunk teenager, at that. That is absolutely not hot or adorable or any other adjectives you’re thinking._ Stiles pouted and grabbed Derek’s hips pleadingly, much to the enjoyment of the two other idiots snickering in the background.

“Pleeeeeeeeeease, Der.” He blinked, trying on Scott’s puppy-faced expression. “Drive us to McDonald’s”

“Pleeeeeeeeease,” Scott and Isaac added after Stiles finished his pathetic, whining plea.

Derek growled in frustration. Really, he had brought this on himself. He never should have even hinted at owning a bottle of anything, much less a bottle that could get werewolves drunk. “Fine. But we’re going through the drive-thru. No getting out of the car.”

“Yes!” Stiles jumped up and kissed his lips quickly before sauntering over to Scott and Isaac doing his best impression of a victory-booty-dance.

Derek’s brain short circuited for a second. Several seconds. _Did he just kiss me?_

He felt his lips that tingled, mentally memorizing the sloppy but insistent pressure he had felt.

_Teenager. Teenager. Drunk teenager. Means not a goddamned thing!_

He apparently had stood still too long lost in thought because all of a sudden Scott’s voice rang out through the loft. “You coming or what?”

 _Must be out of my goddamned mind,_ he lamented as he shrugged on his jacket.

Fifteen minutes later, after a rousing slap fight between Scott and Stiles as to who would ride shotgun, Derek pulled up to the drive-thru of McDonalds. The crackly, muffled voice floated out of the speaker box, “Welcome to McDonald’s what can I get you today?”

Stiles lurched over from the passenger seat, hands planting themselves on Derek’s thigh, to scream into the speaker, “How many chicken nuggets can you legally sell me?”

Scott and Isaac lost it.

They hooted and snorted but one look from Derek and they had stopped their loud laughter, more or less, and resorted to quietly laughing behind their hands. He shoved Stiles back into his seat. “Put your seatbelt back on! I am not your parent I shouldn’t have to babysit you!” He turned his attention to the speaker. “Sorry about that. Babysitting.”

A crackled laughed spit at them through the speaker followed by, “I know the feeling, sir. Do you need a minute?”

“Yes, thank you.” Derek composed himself. Stiles’ left hand was still resting on his leg. But he needed to concentrate. He turned his head. “You two, what do you want?”

“Large fry, eight piece nugget. Honey BBQ sauce,” Scott answered.

“Large fry, eight piece nugget. Dijon mustard,” Isaac added.

Derek repeated the order into the speaker. After it asked if there was anything else he turned to Stiles. “What do you want.” Stiles pointed to the sign on the menu, one that in retrospect he never should have let Stiles see, and said, “Forty piece pack with the gallon of sweet tea.”

Derek’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

The speaker crackled, “Sir, is that everything?”

“Hold on a second, sorry!” He rounded on Stiles again. “For real?”

“Absolutely!” Stiles’ face was blown with excitement and really, he desperately needed to obtain some will power. Derek shook his head and added Stiles’ absurd order in and ordered a milkshake for himself because he had absolutely earned it and pulled up to the pay window.

“Total comes to 18.75,” The man at the counter said, hand stretched out to receive payment.

Derek’s eyebrow shot up, “Even with the forty piece meal?”

The man smirked and shook his head. “Yeah. Corporate is testing the demographic. Disgusting isn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” Derek forked over a twenty and was handed his change and milkshake in return.

“You can pull up to the first parking spot. You guys are killing our nugget supply. It’ll take a bit for everything to be done. We’ll bring it out when it’s done.”

Derek nodded his thanks and pulled up to the spot indicated and put the camaro in park. “Was that really necessary?”

“Dude,” Stiles said with amazement apparent on every inch of his face. “Forty chicken nuggets. I’m ready to die at any moment. I might have cause I think that’s heaven!”

Of course he would say that. _Idiot._

Scott and Isaac chatted idly in the backseat, something about Shaggy and Scooby in comparison with him and Stiles, while Stiles fidgeted in the passenger seat unable to contain his drunken excitement. Derek just stared into his phone playing 2048 and sipped his shake. About ten minutes into his fifth game a tap at the window startled him and caused him to drop his phone. Looking up into the window he saw a kid carrying two bags, one normal sized meal bag presumably containing Scott and Isaac’s orders and one giant bag that obviously contained a hoard of chicken nuggets and a milk jug full of tea.

He retrieved his phone from the footwell and rolled down the window to take the bags and jug from him and mutter a quick thanks. He checked the smaller bag and seeing two fries and two boxes of nuggets he passed the bag to the backseat.

“Yes! Thank you Derek!” Scott beamed at him in joy and stuck a handful of fries in his mouth.

“Yeah, totally,” Isaac added before snatching a box of nuggets and a package of mustard.

“Stiles you will wait until we get back to the loft to open the sweet tea.”

Stiles was silent.

He had stuck his head in the enormous bag, resembling a horse with a feedbag strapped to its head. When his head finally emerged he had three chicken nuggets stuffed into his mouth. Unable to speak around the abundance of chicken in his mouth he tapped his chin and waved it outward, the sign for thank you in sign language, and groaned in pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Derek just shook his head and put the car into drive and headed for home. Stiles finally finished chewing and then verbally thanked him and stuffed another nugget in his mouth, this time savoring it slowly.

Derek saw the grease glistening on his lips. It shouldn’t have made him want to reach over and lick it away. _What is wrong with me? I mean. It’s grease. It’s gross._ But it seemed natural on Stiles. God he needed help. How many days until he finally turned eighteen? _Too many_ _to keep your lecherous ass out of hell,_ he berated silently.

The whole car smelled like fast food and he mentally kicked himself for not ordering anything more than a milkshake. His stomach growled in agreement with this revelation. He absentmindedly reached across to the bag in Stiles’ lap to snag a nugget.

What he got instead was a slap on the hand and an honest to god hiss. Derek pulled to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Derek felt the thump of Isaac hitting the back of his seat and he was sure Stiles had felt Scott slam into his back.

“Did you just hiss at me?”

“Mine!” Stiles hugged the bag to his chest and hissed again.

“You are not a cat.”

“Course not! I’m a terrifying dragon! Protecting my little virgin baby nuggets from the evils of the world!” He snuck a hand into the bag and fished out a nugget and shoved it into his mouth. “Saving them by holding them forever in my stomach.”

“Are you kidding me?” Derek could almost laugh with the absurdity. “You mean to tell me that in repayment for giving you liquor, which you shouldn’t have had in the first place, driving you,” he added pointing to the boys in the back, “and you two to McDonalds and paying for a ridiculous amount of fried chicken meat and you’re not going to let me have one of the forty of those?”

The camaro was silent.

Stiles blushed and Scott tapped his head. “Dude, just give him a nugget man. You owe him.”

“Why do I owe him? Why don’t you give him one of yours?”

“Because you had to have the giant bag of nuggets that you probably won’t finish anyway.”

Stiles pouted. Derek kept the car in park and stared at Stiles.

Isaac was the one who broke the silence. “I did not come to steal from you…” He let the quote hang in the air. Scott burst into laughter and Derek looked on in disbelief at the complete geekery. Isaac continued. “O, Smaug, the unassessably wealthy! I just wanted to gaze upon your magnificent hoard of golden nuggets!”

Scott was almost wheezing with laughter now and Derek still couldn’t believe it. _How many times did he see that freaking movie?_ He looked to Stiles and could see him struggling not to laugh, tears sneaking out from his eyes. Finally his laughter burst through and he gave up. “Fine, fine! Geez, you can have one.” He dug into the bag and pulled out a nugget and handed it to Derek.

“Thank you.” Then deciding to play along he added, “You are as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them.” He ended the statement with a crunch into the greasy, crispy chicken.

Laughter filled the car and Derek started for home once more. The whole way back he was forced to listen to Lord of the Rings quotes. He was never giving these fools a drop of liquor ever again. Period.

Finally back at the loft and parked the four men exited the car and made their way up to Derek’s apartment. Once inside coats and shoes were flung haphazardly and Derek slumped into the couch and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes.

“My car will never smell the same again.”

He felt the couch dip as Stiles plopped down beside him, still holding a half-full bag of nuggets.

“You’re right. It’ll smell amazing forever!”

“It’ll smell like stale grease. I really should have said no.”

Eyes still closed and an arm draped over them Derek settled into the couch, tired of babysitting when he felt something pressed against his lips. He jumped and sputtered, then registered Stiles’ shocked face. He was holding a chicken nugget in his hand.

“I just figured you deserved another one.” He held it out, this time closer to his chest than to his face. “If you want it, I mean.”

Derek plucked the lukewarm nugget and took a bite. Stiles stared at him, eyes dropping to his lips. Derek sensed dangerous waters and jumped up from the couch.

“Okay, now that you’ve had your little snack it’s bedtime.”

“Oh come on,” Scott whined.

“Don’t ‘come on’ me.” He choked on his own tongue, he hadn’t meant to say that. Then hearing Stiles’ muffled laughter he blushed.

“I’m serious. I’m getting blankets and you all are going to bed before anymore nonsense can happen.” Resolutely he stomped off to get his extra blankets and a couple pillows. There was one couch, the one Isaac usually slept on, but they would just have to fight over it. He didn’t care about anything other than putting himself out of his misery and putting his drunk pack mates to bed. When he returned to the living area he groaned and shook his head. “Seriously?”

Stiles had spread himself out on the couch like a jungle cat on all fours, hissing at the other two cackling boys on the floor. “Mine! I am king under the mountain!”

“You-you’re atop the mountain!” Scott clutched his sides. Anymore talking from him very much out of the question.

“Filthy dwarves!” Stiles hissed again for good measure. “You will not dethrone me!”

“But I just might!” Derek threw a blanket at Stiles’ head, causing him to fall flat into the cushions. Before anymore laughter could erupt two more blankets were tossed at Scott and Isaac. “No more talking! No more laughing! It’s sleeping time.” He tossed the pillows on the floor near the couch and crossed his empty arms. After a couple of hushed mockulatory “yes sirs” Derek made his way to his own room and forced himself to relax and go to sleep.

The next morning he awoke to the smell of coffee. Blinking his eyes open and rubbing the sleep from them Derek sat up. Then he smelled something other than the coffee. He smelled stale grease, sweat and a fading smell of soap. His head snapped to the doorway where Stiles stood, holding a mug of steaming coffee.

“Hey uh,” Stiles started, nervously scratching the back of his head. “We, uh, made some coffee. And some pancakes if you want them.” He crossed the room and held out the mug for Derek. “Little thank you for last night.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly, trying desperately to regain a mask of annoyed composure.

“So.” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “We should do this again sometime. You’re fun when I’m drunk.”

Derek grunted in noncommittal and took a sip of coffee. _Absolutely never again,_ he vowed again.

“Like maybe next month for my birthday,” Stiles offered.

Derek froze.

“Then maybe I could do more than a quick peck on the lips and a cup of coffee as a thank you.”

Derek tore his eyes from his coffee mug and planted them on Stiles. Stiles had blushed pink all over, all the way to the tips of his ears. He bit his lips, obviously waiting for a reply. How could he have missed Stiles’ return of attraction to him? Did Stiles know how he felt? Had he been so obvious?

 _Screw vows._ “I think it can be arranged.”

“Sweet,” Stiles squeaked. He gestured to the coffee, “Hope you like it. There’s a whole pot. Anyways,” He pointed to thumbs at the door and took a hesitant step back. “I gotta run. My dad will be wanting me back. See you later.”

“Yeah, later.”

He watched Stiles bounce out of the room, listened to his footsteps on the stairs and the door open and close after him. He waited until he was sure he was alone before groaning loudly into his hand, resigning to his fate.

_I’m attracted to a teenage, chicken nugget hoarding dragon. Who is a legal adult in one month. I’m so fucking screwed._

**Author's Note:**

> So this was prompted from a mixture of a true story and an ad I saw for a 40pc meal and gallon of sweet tea from McDonalds.   
> The true story is my friend Katie drove my drunk friend Rachel to McDonald's once and Rachel shouted at the cashier, "How many nuggets can you legally sell me?" Katie was not amused.   
> The ad is the picture you see above.


End file.
